


All Grown Up.

by madmeister



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Idealization of Suicide, Post-Canon, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-21 04:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13733139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madmeister/pseuds/madmeister
Summary: Maka Albarn returns to DWMA after graduating and traveling the world for a year only to find that some things haven't changed. Soul is still a death scythe for Lord Death. Her father is still hanging out with Blaire and the other girls around town. And Stein is still at the academy as a teacher. Maka x Stein , post-anime canon , not manga based.





	1. A Wild Maka Has Appeared!

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not read if you are against adult Maka or reading anime based stories. Thank you. This was written due to most fics involving Stein being rape, especially with Maka as the ship partner. I wanted to write something morally decent and more fleshed out - and ya know, not rape.

Stein woke up earlier than usual today, his body creaking mysteriously as he rolled out of bed and popped his neck. A few grinds of the screw and he could finally feel his mind beginning to focus and relax. It became a part of his daily routine: wake up, stretch, fix screw, and then _tea_. He liked tea in the morning. It wasn’t as intense as coffee but it was warm and comforting. It gave the place a nice aroma.

He started the kettle before walking into the bathroom, bleary eyed and contemplating a sick day. Something felt off this morning. Maybe it was the late hours he was working after school each night as he searched for a cure to Soul’s black blood and Crona’s ever present bully Ragnarok. The less progress he made the worse he felt. It was beginning to seem pointless. Day in and Day out, he taught, he worked, he (sometimes) ate, and then he repeated the process. The monotony was beginning to make him mad even without a Kishin’s influence.

Halfway through brushing his teeth the mirror lit up, causing him to groan in response. It was barely 6:30 a.m. and Death was calling him? Spirit’s face filled the mirror, his giant eyes red from crying and a large snot bubble blowing out as he spoke.

“STEIN! Maka is coming home today!! My baby girl is back!!!”

The sobbing noises were abruptly cut off by Lord Death’s mighty chop. Stein stood, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, hair messed up, and shirtless before Lord Death and all he could think was, _why do I care about his at six in the morning?_

“Professor Stein, good morning. Sorry to interrupt your morning rituals but, ya know, death never sleeps.” Lord Death chuckled at his own bad joke before continuing, all the while Spirit laid in the background still sobbing _maka, maka,_ quietly to himself. “Anyways! Maka wondered if she might sit in your class today, for old times sake. Wha’dd’ya say?”

Stein raised an eyebrow, finally removing the toothbrush from his mouth but deciding to speak through the toothpaste in his mouth. “I don’t care?”

The words were monotone as was his attitude towards the entire situation. _Why would he care?_ It was just a returning student and Maka of all students wouldn’t bother him during a session he was sure.

“Alrighty then, just wanted to check! Good luck today. I’m sure the students will be excited to see the great Maka Albarn in the flesh today!” With that Lord Death waved his massive gloved hand goodbye and signed off, leaving Stein to roll him eyes and finish his task at hand. _Just another day at DWMA_ , he thought.

He finished with his routine, putting on his regular teaching clothes: his lab coat, a stitched sweater, and pants. There wasn’t a reason to wear anything different. These clothes seemed to work for all kinds of classes, whether training, dissection, or lecture. Stein wasn’t one to change something that worked flawlessly. Not unless it was for experimentation purposes.

The school was brightly lit by the desert sun, each stair he went up brought him closer and closer to the classroom. Now that he was more awake and his brain was less sleep addled he began to think about how pleasant it would be to have a student like Maka back again. She was hardworking, a go-getter, and never quit. It was one of the reasons that she defeated the Kishin so easily.

He smiled to himself. Maka was a meister who had outdone even him. Her power was incredible and her soul was even more exciting. Stein clicked his tongue in excitement before lighting up a cigarette. He’d love to dissect her soul somehow but even he wasn’t sure how to do that and he liked her to much to let her come to harm, even for the sake of an experiment. Plus, how would Spirit Senpai react? Stein didn’t want to imagine the amount of tears he would shed. It might drown the entire city.

At the top he took a quick rest, shoulders slacking up as he caught his breath. Smoking was beginning to take a toll on his lungs. He should stop soon - before Lord Death decided to take his life for the fun of it. The thought made him sick to think about. He flicked the cigarette down, stamping it out before starting inside and opening the door to this classroom.

He let out a sigh when he looked inside. Maka Albarn, past student and daughter of Spirit Albarn, was sitting in his seat, at his desk, reading the book he left on the desk. He smiled, eyes betraying the tiredness behind it.

“Somethings never change.”

“Professor!” She jumped up and ran to him, giving him a friendly hug. “I didn’t want to be late.”

He returned the hug, letting go rather quickly. Touching always felt so intrusive, he didn’t like it very much but he didn’t complain. It had been over a year since she and him had spoken.

“Well, you even beat the teacher here. I think you deserve an A for effort.”

Maka beamed, a goofy smile replacing her normal one. “Professor, I don’t need grades anymore. I’m graduated.”

Stein rolled his eyes before smirking, “Yes, Maka. I’m aware ---- Lord Death says you want to sit in class today? Is that right?”

“Yes! If it won’t disturb you. I just wanted to see old classroom again. I was surprised to hear you were still teaching.”

“Oh?”

“Well, sir, no offense but I didn’t think you would want to stay around kids after everything. I thought you’d go back to your lab and someone else would take over.”

Stein mulled over the question, while Maka stood there still smiling but her posture was more serious. Perhaps she thought Stein would be upset with her for thinking that.

“Well, the pay is good and being here, with the students … it keeps me from having too much free time. You know?”

Maka’s eyes softened, understanding what he implied. _Too much time, meant too much time to give into temptations_.

“So you still have those thoughts huh?” She asked bluntly but without malice.

Stein felt taken aback by her boldness, surprised that she would ask him so plainly about his madness.

“Yes, Maka. I do … sometimes.”

“Me, too.”

Stein squinted at her, gaze looking through her, trying to see her soul, curious to know if she was being truthful.

“You don’t have to see my soul to know I’m being honest. I still have nightmares.”

He started to ask what she meant but students began to file in and she smiled again, this time, it was her normal smile. One that hid away all the strange words she had already given him to think about.

“I’ll see you after class, Professor.” With that, she walked to the back of the classroom and took a seat, pulling out a textbook from the desk and settling in for the course. He put a hand to his screw, turning it thoughtfully. He really needed to focus and _not_ spend all of class wondering when Maka became so grown up.


	2. Stein contemplates if his views are outdated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stein and Maka talk about her life the past year and what she's been up to.

Maka sits quietly like a good student, back straight, book opened. She blends in with the students, attention to the front of the room. It’s obvious Stein has his bluff in on this set of students. Not one is deviating from the lesson, all eyes on him. Some are even taking notes, _actual notes_ , not just doodling from boredom. To be fair, the lesson isn’t nearly as boring as she might have expected.

He writes across the chalkboard in clear, practiced script, _Soul Resonance_ , and launches into a lecture about what it is, when it was discovered and how it can be used to make weapons and meisters more powerful on the battlefield. _Child soldiers_ , she thinks to herself sadly. That’s what they are — what she was for years. Child soldiers brought up to fight the Kishin and the madness and the witches. Her shoulders sag with the weight of maturity. It was _never_ fun to put in hours upon hours of practice and hard work but at least she had believed in the cause then.

The battle with the Kishin had left her unsettled.

_Is madness evil? It’s in all of us._ **So is bravery.** _So it’s like madness?_

She couldn’t stop thinking about what the Kishin had said. Even after traveling the world, the words still crept underneath her skin until she found the deeper meanings of his word. What is bravery but using fear as strength? What is madness but lack of fear as a strength. Was she really so special that she deserved to live and the Kishin didn’t? Who was she to draw that line?

Class went on without her attention and by the time the bell rang she had slowly slid down the chair into a position of defeat. Distracted she jumped hard as the tones sounded. Her attention immediately went to Stein at the front of the class, staring at her quizzically as he turned the screw again.

_Trying to figure me out, no doubt._ She gave him a smile anyways. He was strange but he was blunt and honest, and he never hid away from his madness. She hoped to be as resilient one day as he was. He had fought through madness and more to help defeat the kishin. And he had sacrificed so much to keep them safe, only to fail at the very end.

She trotted down the stairs stopping just short of him.

“Did you enjoy the lesson?” He asked in a bored tone.

“Yes, it was very interesting.” She lied. _Well, not really lied but it wasn’t like she had been paying close attention_.

“Really? So you falling asleep during my lecture was due to it’s interest factor… Curious.”

Maka blushed bright red, feeling the heat rise from her collarbones to her eyebrows. “N-no, professor stein – I just — my mind got distracted . . . I promise. I would never fall asleep in class. That’s rude.”

He laughed out loud this time, clearly enjoying himself. “I know Maka. I was just having fun with you.” He paused, gathering up his papers and attendance sheet before looking back to her. “Let’s go get some coffee. Next period’s training with Sid, so we have some time to talk if you want. I assume you’re free.”

She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. “You’re assuming a lot, Professor Stein. What if I’m not free?” She delivered the line deadpan.

He turned his head slightly to the side, studying her expression. “Rain check?”

They both stared at each other for a few minutes before she started to crack under pressure and they both broke into laughter.

“Fine, fine, professor. I really free. There’s not much to do in Death City with everyone gone. You and Soul are the only people I know anymore.”

“You know your papa …” He said with a slight grimace thinking of Spirit this morning.

Maka’s expression was almost a mirror image of his own. “Yes, I know him. Why else do you think I’m avoiding him?”

The banter came easy between them and Stein found himself actually enjoying the company of another adult that wasn’t _crying_ , yelling, or being all around annoying to be around. It was different and refreshing. Plus, it kept his mind off of his experiments for the time being.

They sipped their coffee and listened for the bell to play again all while Stein flipped through papers and Maka quizzed him on the events that had occurred while she was away.

“Well, Spirit is now Death the Kid’s Death Scythe due to his symmetry, but Soul is his Spirits protege and is currently being wielded by Lord Death to help him train. Then you have Marie and her boyfriend who are currently renovating the school… Crona comes and goes as they please but Lord Death is still having me work on a cure for the Black Blood in case it comes up again in the future….”

“Wow, it seems a lot has happened since I left…”

Stein sits back against the cool steel of the chair, attitude turning sour as he thinks of failed research back at the lab. Maka reflects his pose, thinking of how everyone has adjusted except for her.

She bites her lip before taking the plunge and cutting through the red tape.

“I want to ask you something … and I’m not sure how you’ll take it – but I think you’re the person who will tell me the truth.” She says, gaze turned hard as she makes eye contact with him.

He raises an eyebrow curiously before putting up one finger in the ‘wait’ gesture and pulling out a cigarette. Lighting it up he gingerly holds it between his lips before gesturing her to continue.

She wanted to laugh at him but didn’t want to ruin the moment of seriousness.   _Some things never change._

“Do you think anyone expected me to live? Was I just a child sacrifice while Lord Death tried to figure out how to beat the Kishin?” She blurted out.

Stein’s eyes widened and then squinted, nearly closing before he leaned in close to her, torso leaning over the small table in between them.

“ _What?”_ He pauses, eyes puzzled as he stares at her. She looks away first, uncomfortable with his intensity. “Maka … do you really think that little of Shibusen?”

She frowned, cheeks turning red. Embarrassed she had asked – or rather embarrassed that the answer she received was unexpected. _Yes_ , she did think that of Shibusen. She felt isolated - forgotten. Everyone was doing _something_ useful and she was dealing with her pain alone, out in the world, with no one, not even her weapon partner to make her feel less terribly.

She had a rare soul, and weapon blood, and anti-magic wavelength, and she _was_ meant to outdo her mother but **no one** really cared about her. They just needed her to kill the kishin. She was just another weapon.

She stood up quickly, knocking into the desk and spilling coffee out onto the edge of a couple pages, before muttering apologies. Stein tried to stand with her, reaching out to steady her but she jerked her arm away from him, before running out into the hallway.

She could hear Stein call out after her but she didn’t stop, heading straight to her old home. The gang all decided to buy the house when they left so they’d always have a home to come back to. When her soul perception stopped sensing Stein she stopped running, catching her breathe.

_Well, the was dramatic….. but i can’t go back now. It’s too embarrassing and I – I should have never spoke like that. Not so soon. I don’t have anyone here. God. I’m such a screw up._


	3. Losing My Mind Over You

**hello everyone, it’s been a while since i’ve thought about this fanfiction and i hope it’s okay i continue it. I have been in the roleplay community for a while and my writing style may have changed slightly but i hope you will enjoy the rest of the story and forgive me for writing anything that isn’t correct. I haven’t seen SE in sometime now.**

 

_ Curious… , _ Stein thinks to himself. Gray eyes have long since lost track of Maka’s figure in the distance. Giving up at the doors of the cafe, knowing what it might look like if he followed. No matter his reputation he was still a professor and he was still suffering from madness. If Maka chose to accuse him of something improper he’s not sure who they’d believe. Him, or the once child savior. Returning to his chair he falls ungracefully into it, blotting napkins against the papers who have been injured in the conflict. Thankfully there’s nothing beyond saving and he begins packing up his things, knowing he has a bit left before the bell rings, seeing as they barely spent any time talking.

 

Reaching for his coffee he takes a sip, grimacing directly after.  _ Maybe I should have stuck with tea. _ Gaze towards Maka’s coffee it’s evident it’s went untouched and he’s aware that he’s been left with the bill. It only serves to further his interest in Maka’s new persona. She’s no longer the student he remembers. She’s damaged. If the abrupt stop to their conversation was not clear enough, then her strange questions left no doubt. Maka Albarn was clearly struggling and of everyone she could have asked - her father, her friends, Soul - she had come to him. The professor, the mad one, the  _ man _ with a history of dissections under stress. Somehow that said more about her situation than anything. She must be desperate.

 

_ Child Soldier _ . A strange thing to call herself and a stranger thing to assume of Lord Death - that he would send innocents to their death as a ploy for more time. Stein, as cynical as he could be, had never given it much thought. He stands finished packing his things before paying his tab, aware that the other patrons were staring at him with various expression - some with curiosity, some with fear, and others with distrust. No doubt assuming he had said something terrible inappropriate to make her runaway.

 

He just smiles, head cocked very slightly as his glasses glint in the light, giving him the look of a maniac looking for his next experiment. It was enough to deter the most intense gazes. Opening the cafe door he lets the ringing of the bell over the door distract him from the creeping sensation that things would be changing this year.

 

Stein’s next class felt like a blur, mind half focused on the task at hand, lecturing, and half focused on the conversation he and Maka had had previously. Why did she ask about his madness? Why did she run away when he answered her blunt questions with blunt answers? And why during his lecture did she seem miles away. If he didn’t know better he would have thought she was on the moon she felt so far away.

 

There’s no reason for her to be acting so obtusely. If she needed answers there were plenty of other, more  _ normal _ people to ask. Instead she had chosen him. And it was a mystery to him. This morning he had awoken  _ bored _ and lacking inspiration. And now, now he was lost in thought, lost in theories, in curiosity towards her behavior.

 

“ _ Stein. _ ” The voice seems so far away but it brings his attention back, standing in front of the chalkboard he’s suddenly aware that the classroom is empty and the windows are darkening. Eyes seek out the source of the voice, the familiar outline of Spirit in his doorway. “What are you doing lecturing in an empty classroom?”

 

He blinks, turning his screw just slightly, attempting to tune into Spirit’s frequency. “I was practicing.” A lie, said without emotion or inflection. He knows Spirit won’t press him - knows Spirit is scared of being alone with him. Which only serves to make him curious why he’s here. 

 

“Since when do you practice?” Spirit’s eyes narrow, stepping backwards into the hall as Stein steps forward, prey aware it’s predator. Spirit might be the most powerful death scythe ever made but he was a  _ coward _ when it came to Stein. He could use that to his advantage and make Spirit run off like a schoolboy peeing his pants or he could dig for information,  _ research. _

 

“Why is Maka back, Senpai?” He asks. Careful not to give away his interest, voice bored. “It’s clear she doesn’t need refresher courses.” The best he can do is pretend he’s annoyed with her in his classroom. Spirit would believe that, wouldn’t he?

 

“To - To see me of course!” He’s on the verge of crying again and Stein isn’t sure if he can handle that sort of emotional baggage right now. Mind barely based in reality as it jumps from morning to evening, through every conversation and event of the day.

 

“That’s odd. She told me she was avoiding you.” He says bluntly. He comes to a stop in the doorway, two feet away from Spirit’s distraught figure, the sobs echoing through the school. 

 

“STEINNNNNN, WHY DOESN’T MAKA LOVE ME?”

 

Dramatic as ever, Stein thinks. Staring with dead eyes at him, he feels the weight of the day begin to come down hard as his mind settles back into the moment - in his current reality. 

 

“It’s okay, Senpai. At least she’s consistent.” Somehow the words felt more comforting in his head, but Spirit’s sobbing only grow louder, to the point where Stein can’t be bothered to keep trying. Turning to walk down the hallway, through the main entrance and towards the oversized steps. 

 

He isn’t sure what to think. Spirit obviously has no insights into Maka’s return, believing falsely it was for him. And it can’t be for her mother, she’s out of the picture, off on her own independent travels, and likely dead somewhere for all Stein has heard of her. Not that he cares really. He never did like her. She took Spirit from him - his only pillar of sanity in the worst of times. But he’s  _ far _ beyond that now. Sanity is a brief reprieve from madness and now, he comes to find, madness in small bouts, is rather a nice reprieve from sanity.

 

He started to forget about Maka slowly, mind returning to his thoughts of Crona and black blood. It wasn’t so much that he needed to be purified as Crona no longer minded his other half but rather, Stein hoped to separate them. To give them autonomy and partially because he liked the idea of the experiment - of  _ dissecting -- _

 

“Hello Professor.”


	4. Madness is in the eye of the beholder.

_ “Hello Professor.” _

 

Stein turns, slowly to his right, surprised but not disappointed to see Maka Albarn there, leaned against the inside entrance of his gate. He can’t help but peer back to see if the lock was broken off, or how she got into his courtyard.

 

“Maka.” He says curtly, not sure why she’s returned at such a late hour to resume their conversation. He’s rather put out by it actually. As interesting as Maka was earlier in the day, he finds it hard to summon the energy to deal with anymore dramatics - especially after Spirit.

 

“Marie let me in.” She says, answering a question she must have assumed (and rightfully so) was on his mind. “I- I want to say something.”

 

Stein stands there, book in one hand, house keys in the other, one foot firmly planted in curiosity, and the other in the land of ‘I don’t care’. 

 

“Tea?” He decides to be polite. He does like Maka, even if she’s emotionally unstable and frighteningly similar to her father today.

 

“No, thank you sir.”

 

Scratch that, he thinks, she’s definitely not on his good list anymore. Eye’s narrowing he looms over her, his six foot ten body dwarfing her five foot ten one.

 

“That’s very rude Maka.”

 

To her credit she doesn’t seem bothered by his show. In fact, now that he really looks at her, he can see the dark circles under her green eyes. The sharpness of her features, gaunt in this lighting. The house and overhead lamp post paint her a sickly shade of grey.

 

“Sorry but I just - I just want to say this and leave.” Maka says, words strong and clear with the exception of the minor stutter. 

 

He doesn’t speak, instead fine tuning his screw and looking as deeply into her soul as he can. No doubt having the same done to him.

 

“I feel like a worthless war relic and I feel like you are the only person I can tell who won’t treat me like a child. I - I keep thinking about killing myself. I think I might - have madness.” The words spill out of Maka’s mouth, tumbling without filter or heeding grammatical rules. He’s invested now, curious even. The world’s savior is in a big black hole and she’s asking him, the only person farther into the darkness than her right now, to help. He appreciates the gesture but isn’t sure what to say next.

 

“Have you been practicing that because it felt a bit stale.” He deadpans, looking at her as if he’s judging a speech on some textbook topic. Crossing his arm across his waist in thought as he leans back staring at her critically. 

 

“I- what? Did you even listen to me?” Maka cries out. She stands stiff, fists balled in frustration. Completely taken aback by his nonchalance. She just said she wanted to die and he’s treating her like this? Where’s the concern? Or even the anger, that she’d say something like that? Did he even care? 

 

“Maka, what did you expect? For me to drag you away to Lord Death and Spirit Senpai and throw you at their feet.” He muses, one eyebrow quirking as he imagines the scene. It would be rather interesting to see their reactions and hers. “You’re an adult. Your life is your life - but I really doubt you’re going to kill yourself.”

 

And he does doubt it. Very seriously. There is no madness in Maka, only  _ deep _ sadness. A soldier without a war, a child without a mother, a lonely, sad, depressed girl who took a year sabbatical only to come back and realize she’s been left alone while her friends flourished. She  _ must _ have picked him for his familiarity. He’s not changed outwardly - and perhaps that will benefit them both. 

 

“Why is that so hard to believe? I’m being serious!” Her classic pigtails are lower now at the base of her neck instead of high on her head but they still shake as she talks, head moving as she raises her voice unintentionally. Emotions getting the best of her.

 

“No, you’re seeking attention. No need to put on a show.” He turns his back on her, sliding his key into the door and entering before yelling back, “I’m making tea, you might as well come in.”

 

*

 

He was bluffing of course. He wasn’t sure if she was really going to kill herself or not but he did know that he could not talk about this without tea and a cigarette. And possibly alcohol, copious amounts of it. Maka was on edge and seeking help from Stein - had she not seen his own track record? She really was like her father sometimes. Good heart - bad judge of character.

 

Maka sits on the couch, admiring his lab and taking in every detail instead of looking at him or speaking. She’s spoken enough and now he isn’t taking her seriously and _honestly_ , she feels like a student again. Her, Maka Albarn, who saved the world was back to being a student afraid of disappointing her professor. This day was getting worse by the minute.

 

She had thought coming back here would somehow solve something. Stein -- ugh, she’d been making him out to be some sort of guru in her head the past few months. She was sure that he could fix this - fix her. It was his thing, fixing broken things - she’d fixed Sid, and his madness, and her team during the war. 

 

In her mind, she’d planned it all out. Come back, conveniently meet with him, have coffee, slowly befriend him and then she’d come out with everything. Her fears, her secrets, her thoughts about Lord Death -- and Stein would understand, because he was smart, and he would fix this. He would give her some secret cure, or answer, and everything would be better.

 

_ Why did she ever think that?  _ She knew better. He’d always been a loose canon, incapable of putting others first.  _ Just look and him and papa. _ Dysfunctional at best.

 

Stein clears his throat and she’s thrust back into the current moment, fully aware that she’s dressed up -- maybe she  **was** being dramatic. Black skirt and white blouse, hair in pigtails that start at her neck - and why? To impress Stein? To seem more adultlike? _ God she really was stupid.  _

 

“Are you going to ignore me in my own house?” He asks, setting her oddly shaped mug on the table carefully, before sitting on the couch beside her, giving her a good foot of space between them. “That’s very rude Maka.”

 

“Stop saying ‘ _ that’s very rude, maka’ _ !” She blurts out, mockingly. Her rendition of his voice and tone are terrible but effective. He gets the point. Her fingernails are cutting crescents into her palms. She hates this. She was  _ so _ stupid for coming here and thinking she could spill her guts and leave and forget this ever happened. He simply grins, head cocked sideways as if he’s humored by her outburst.  “I’m not rude!” She hates the way he keeps talking to her like a child - like he finds her funny - like a joke. “Can I leave now?” Still, though, she can’t meet his eyes, fully focused on the steaming tea in front of her.

 

“No.” He says simply, sipping his tea and enjoying the warmth of it. He needed that. His bones are aching. And this banter is beginning to get under his stitches. “No, you can’t leave. You’re going to talk to me, since you’re so desperate for my attention.”

 

“That’s not true! I - I just thought you would understand.” She’s not desperate! She’s not,  _ is she? _ She could call Soul if she wanted to, or her father if she was  _ really _ desperate.

 

“Understand what? That you’re more and more like Spirit every time we meet?” He retorts.

 

“Take that back!”

 

“I will not.”

 

Maka huffs, sulking into the couch cushions and crossing her arms petulantly frowning. He takes another sip, setting his cup on the concrete coffee table and turning towards her, knee close to her own as he puts one arm on the rest and one along the top of the couch cushions. Eyes peering at her. His posture is open and willing, with no signs of closed offness. He does so on purpose, giving what little energy he left to attempt to talk to her.

 

“You do realize, you arrived today. Sat in my class, invited me to coffee, got upset, ran away, waited outside my home, and then told me you wanted to kill yourself. I’m unclear what your goal was today Maka. You insulted Lord Death, ignored your father, and act like I’m the one bothering you.” It’s all very confusing but interesting but boring. She’s crying out for attention, but why him? She’s depressed but why?

 

“Professor -” She starts, pale eyes finally meeting his own, angry but tear filled, she’s one good cry from being an imitation of Spirit until she opens her mouth. “I don’t know what to do if I’m not killing. I think - I think you should put me out of my misery.”

 

His eyes widen, understanding her implications. Considering them for only the barest millisecond. He would love to experiment on her  _ but _ Lord Death had rules. Rules that Stein followed - mostly.

 

“No.”

 

“Why not!” Maka says, indignantly. Now she’s turned towards him. It’s a step in the right direction - at least she’s looking at him again. And angry is so much more comfortable for him than sadness. “You always said you wanted to turn me into sandpaper - Here’s your chance, I’ll go willingly!”

 

Stein doesn’t deny his curiosity or fascination with her, leaning forward and just barely grazing her face with his finger tips, imagining the blood underneath her skin oozing out on his dissection table. The image is tantalizing but there’s no enjoyment in it. The consequences are too high, Senpai would never forgive him and Lord Death would probably send him straight to a grave -- no Zombie afterlife allowed. Maka doesn’t flinch, instead pushing into the touch. Which only serves to make him  _ more _ curious than before.  **Why?**

 

It’s been over a year since she’s been with someone who knew her well enough to break physical boundaries. To reach out and touch her.  _ God, she just wants to be held. _ She needs someone to tell her she’s not crazy - that she’s not in this alone. Maka shuts her eyes tight, fighting back the tears there. She is  _ not _ her father. She is not weak. She is the greatest the academy has ever seen and she’ll be damned if gets emotional like her father.

 

“You’re not going to kill yourself, Maka.” He says finally, her cheek against his palm as he allows her this form of self-comfort no matter how strange it is to him. “You’re sad,  _ not _ mad.” In a way, he’s somewhat insulted that she would think this constitutes as madness. If he dwells on it too long he’ll find someway to ruin this moment which would be  _ boring _ . He wants to know more. How does a meister like Maka devolve into this? 

 

“You’re welcome to spend the night here but I should warn you it can be spooky at night. And any screaming you here is certainly mine and not some poor students.”

 

“Screaming?”

 

“Yes. Like you mentioned this morning… Some of us still have nightmares.”

 

He removes his hand without warning. He pulls back, detaching himself from her completely, noting the way she tries to follow him, seeking out his touch. It’s sad how fragile she really is. He can see it now, so much clearer than before. As if something had veiled her soul earlier. Her own stubborn disbelief perhaps. It’s lonely, wings drooping, it’s almost as if she’s shrinking herself, attempting to become smaller, he thinks. He wants to keep an eye on her. Both for her sake and for his curiosity.

 

“I shouldn’t, professor.” Voice small, she says what she thinks she’s supposed to. He’s expecting it before she opens her mouth. It’s one of the only things normal about her right now - the need to be the perfect little student. Always following the rules.

 

“I’m not your professor anymore Maka.” He sighs. His own tiredness catching up with him. He has to wake early in the morning and his brain feels overwhelmed with information that he doesn’t know what to do with yet. Still, there’s a softness to his voice. One that comes from years of attempting to find humanity in himself. A voice that he’s honed slowly but surely over the years since Spirit left him for Maka’s mother. “Just don’t do anything stupid before morning.”

 

She nods sniffling just barely. Eyes following him as he stands up and moves to a closet opening it and digging around inside. Curious she cranes her neck, somewhat afraid of what he might pull out - or worse, if he’s going to shove her in there and lock her up.

 

“P-pr-professor?” She stutters out, scared of what he might do to her. Ironic that she cares considering she’s already offered him her life but now, the thought of him actually killing her, is terrifying. She’d expected drugs or something to knock her out before hand.  _ Oh god, the tea? Was something in the tea? She didn’t even drink it!  _ She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out the mental image she’s given herself.

 

“Maka, relax.” He’s looming over her, imposing and overwhelming but her eyes go straight to the blanket in his hands. It looks hand stitched. “And get some sleep before you lose your mind.” He smirks at his own joke before heading to his own room she assumes somewhere upstairs. 

 

Everything is a joke to him, she thinks. Why did she think he was a good person to confide in? Why didn’t she have anyone else to consider? Where were her friends? Why couldn’t she just come clean with Soul. He of all people should understand but then again, she knows why she won’t. 

 

He’s moved on. He’s a death scythe now. He’s grown up and he wouldn’t understand her problems. Her issues with the past or her struggles with moving forward. She’s not like Soul, he has a new job, one that changes daily but Maka - she’s out of commission, with nothing to do and no partner. It’s miserable. She’s miserable. Depressed, really.

 

She curls the blanket around her, wrapping it tightly as she lets herself cry finally, softly whimpering - refusing to let Stein hear her weakness. She feels something sewed into the blanket edge by her face and flips the seam over trying to read it in the low lighting from the outside light shining through the window. She can’t read it very well but she’s pretty sure this is something Stein hand made years ago. It looks like his name embroidered into the tag. 

She smiles at that, tear stained cheeks rounded out. Maybe he wasn’t the worst option after all. She could have went to her Papa, she thinks. Cringing as she imagines the absolute shit show that her father would put on if he knew.


End file.
